


Don't Fucking Fix Me

by birdie7272



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anger Bang, Angry Castiel, Angry Sex, Angry sex is not the answer! (though it is hot), Castiel x female reader, F/M, M/F, Minor Violence, One Shot, POV Female Character, POV Original Character, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Smut, Smutlet, castiel x reader - Freeform, smutfic, youfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 12:27:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6239290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdie7272/pseuds/birdie7272
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas makes you so angry sometimes!  He doesn’t need to be constantly over your shoulder and worried about every little thing you do and treating you like some child and you feel like you just need to scream and- and- and oh god, you’re having sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Fucking Fix Me

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt by hanaleim for “Cas x female reader. Anger bang. Less than 5,000."

“The Winchesters aren’t the only ones that can save the world, Castiel!” You scream for what feels like the dozenth time. If your hand didn’t hurt so goddamn much, you would be punching the fucking wall by now. “I can help! I was helping! If you hadn’t showed up and zapped me outta there I would’ve had that son of a bitch!”

Cas is just standing at the door to your bedroom, stoic and impassive as ever. Only the slight gleam of irritation boiling somewhere in the corners of his eyes hint he is starting to get angry too.

“You’re hurt,” he says and gestures towards your busted arm. “I had to,” he throws up his hands for air quotes, “zap you out.”

Well kudos to him for getting the fucking quotes this time. For some reason that only spikes the anger zipping through you and you actually end up flexing the arm with splintered bones, making you hiss through your teeth. He seems ready to gloat so you cut him off with, “So what?! It’s part of the fucking job! It’s just a scratch anyway. That demon barely touched me.”

“That demon had you cornered with no weapon and no way out.” Cas’ voice finally starts to rise, “If I hadn’t-“

“I would have figured something out!” Cas looks ready to protest but you are far too done with this argument to listen to anything he has to say. You raise your hand –the non-broken one, thank you very much- and shout, “What are you even still doing here anyway? If you’re hoping for the thank you card then you’ll be waiting a long time cus the mailman already lost it.”

That didn’t even make sense and you know it, but at least it provokes that irritation back up in Cas. Finally, you wiggled that stick up his ass just enough to set his stone face sour. His fists flex and you can practically feel his wings ruffling. You smirk to yourself in guilty satisfaction.

Castiel grinds out, “I will leave after I fix your arm.”

“And here we go again! I know guardian angels are like a thing or whatever but your Dean’s, not mine. Stop being so overprotective!”

“Your arm is broken!”

“Thanks for the newsflash, Captain Obvious. Now fly outta here before I break yours too.” Empty threats aside, the twitch in his jaw makes it worth the effort of screaming past your aching throat. “I don’t want you here. I don’t need you trying to fix me!”

“You are reckless and irresponsible. You are going to get yourself killed.”

“Then that’s my own goddamn fucking problem! If I don’t try the rest of us are just gonna get killed anyway. Or haven’t you noticed? It’s apocalypse number fuckenty out there. If I don’t help stop it then I’ll end up a pile of ash anyway. And that’s the best possible scenario. So fly off and angel-mojo help already! Stop trying to be my watchdog. I don’t want to hold your leash, little pet. Go see if someone else will.”

“That’s enough.”

“Is it? You talk about how you’re an,” you pause to drop your voice to the ‘mocking Cas’ level, “Angel of the Lord with all this power. Well I have yet to see any of it. What good are you actually? Other than being the almighty babysitter.”

The air punches out of your lungs as your back hits the wall and your arm slams to the side. You blink a second too long to orient yourself and find you’ve flown half the room and ended up with Cas pinning you against the wallpaper, his glowing eyes now not hiding any of his fury, his hands digging painfully tight into your shoulders. “I said that’s enough.”

You know you should shut up and stop, but that’s never really been your specialty. You smile at his showboating and croon, “Ooooh. Puppy wants to show his teeth?”

“Stop comparing me to a canine.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

His hands tighten and your hands curl from the pain that shoots out from your busted arm. If he notices he doesn’t show it, just leans in close, his weirdly warm angel breath puffing over your lips, and growls like the damn canine he is, “I have you cornered, just like the demon. How were you planning to escape without my help?”

“I’m not stupid, Cassie. I had a plan.” Well, a shitty plan but he doesn’t need to know that. “Sneak attack.”

He tilts his head to the side in that idiotic way, definitely teasing you. Oh god, he is so infuriating! “How?”

If you weren’t pinned, you really would be punching him across the face. But you are pinned, so Plan B it is. “Like this!”

You shove your face into his and –screw your bruising lip to hell (with that demon who gave it to you)- you move your lips over that scratching stubble and onto his.

Yup. This was your big Plan B! And now your lip is probably bleeding again.

Not for nothing but it’s come in handy before. People –and monsters- never really expect the smooch/sucker-punch routine when you’ve just been trying to bash their teeth in.

It is even working on Cas. His arms have lifted and the rest of him has stilled completely, that anger he was shaking out stuck rattling in the ether with his wings.

You’re not actually about to sucker-punch Cas, though the idea is tempting, and instead spin your way out from between him and the wall, saying, “I think I made my-“ You squeal as Cas’ hands spin you back to him again, the vertigo making your heart leap painfully hard in your chest. You’re no longer pinned against the wall but you’re not exactly loving the death grip he has on your hips either. “Ow! Cas, what the-“

“That was a stupid plan.”

“It worked, didn’t it? I got out of being cornered.”

“But I still have you.” He squeezes your hips to make his point and you trip a half step into him, almost colliding with that massive chest of his. “As I said, it was reckless and would not have worked. It was a stupid plan.”

Your hammering heart is starting to beat some red into the corner of your vision and you lean in close to snap, “That wasn’t the full plan dumbass! It would have been something like this-“

You slam your mouth against his again, only this time there’s nothing chaste about it. You use all working limbs to curl around him, your good hand pulling him close by way of that stupid trench coat. Even your tongue does its fair share of work, slipping past his unmoving mouth and gracing his teeth.

He stills for only a moment this time before he opens his mouth –no doubt to say some other shit- so you pull back your body, turn your waist, and slam your fist into the side of his face.

Cas’ head snaps to the side and you fall away, shaking out the hand that had two seconds ago been the good one. It’s bleeding now.

“Son of a shit fucker!” You jump up and down twice before realizing that hurts your fractured arm worse and simply shake out the other one. “Jesus! Why the hell is your head so goddamn hard?!”

Cas reaches out and you sidestep him. He steps again and you practically want to growl at him to step the fuck off.

“I want to fix your hand,” he says, irritation lacing every syllable. He apparently didn’t appreciate the sucker-punch part, even though you barely left a mark on him.

You back up again, orientating yourself towards the door, even though Cas could easily zap you back into the corner if he wanted. But that would mean he would have to actually make a decision on his own for the first freaking time in his immortal life.

“I told you not to fix me.” You doge him again, nearly tripping over your discarded shoes in the process. “I don’t want you to fix me.” Your voice catches and your eyes burn so you overcompensate with volume, “I don’t need to be fixed! Stop trying to fix me!”

Your harsh scream is cut short when Cas’ hand flicks out and you are sent flying to the other side of the room –the side away from the escape route. Your landing isn’t as harsh as it was the first time but as soon as you open your eyes to yell at him again, he’s there and you’re stuck. He has you by the better arm, pinned above your head. Your lame arm is limp and not even the slightest bit helpful as you struggle against his immovable body.

Cas closes in even tighter, his body locking you into place as he presses against you. His steely muscles curl against your stomach and chest and you know you’re screwed. You know it… but you’re still you and that won’t stop you one bit.

“You are physically injured,” he says as calmly as he can. It’s clear there’s a power coursing just under the surface and he’s trying hard to keep it locked down. “Let me heal you.”

“I can take care of myself!”

“I want to help.”

“Leave me alone!”

“You are infuriating!” Cas finally yells back, his free fist slamming against the wall near your head, spraying plaster dust over your side and face. “I am trying to help you!”

Between clenched teeth you spit out, “I don’t want it.”

His fingers press deeper into your wrist and you can start to feel it now. He’s going to leave bruises and, any harder, he may just start squeezing bone. You don’t show him you’re affected so he goes on, “You are a tiny, stubborn, annoying human being that should learn proper respect. I am not as stupid as you think.”

You’re about to yell at him for being stupid because you never actually called him stupid, he called you stupid, when his mouth is suddenly covering yours. He’s skipping the chaste route too and dives in, teeth first, nipping at your lips and shoving his tongue inside. You bump his tongue out with your own, getting him back for the nips with actual bites, your mouth gasping as you roughly push your lips into the action.

Your body curves, shoulder blades digging into the wall, your pinned arm fighting to get free of his grasp, your legs trapped between his unmoving ones. You open your eyes to see if he really is only moving his head while you’re here grinding the wall and realize that Cas is kissing you.

Cas. Is kissing. You.

You push him back again, strong and hard- feeling no pain. At all.

Your eyes jump to your hands in surprise. Apparently, Cas has used your trick against you and sucker-healed you without you even realizing it. All your little cuts and scrapes are back to being fresh, bruise-able, baby soft skin without your consent.

“Did you just heal me?!”

“Sneak attack,” he deadpans.

You do growl this time and snatch him by the lapels, spinning him against the wall this time. And damn him for letting you do that -for letting you think for even one second that you could repay him by giving him your former aches and pains.

The phantom soreness of your hand is the only thing that reminds you you can’t.

You attack this time, showing him exactly how this kissing thing is supposed to work. You come in just as hard and greedy as before, your body a frenzied mess as you test out your newly healed parts, touching and rubbing and grabbing. You start with his freaking beautiful hair, tugging until he’s forced to lean back and expose his neck. Then you really start biting, down his neck and over his suit.

Why does he never take the damn thing off?

You start shoving at the coat, pushing it off his shoulder so you can see the fucking buttons and get those fuckers out of the holes. Cas barely lets you get two out before he’s trying to help.

Always trying to help.

You slap his hand away but he tries to help again. You double slap them away but he has your mouth again and you spin as he pins you back against the adjacent wall.

You kiss and push back but all you end up doing is grinding against his thigh as he rips away the belt from your jeans. You won’t let him get much farther than that as you grind against him again, your center igniting with desire as his body leans into yours.

Before you can cum like a goddamn preteen, fully clothed and unintentional, you get back to the attacking of faces and unbuttoning of stupid suits. The fact that your hands don’t even have a twinge of ache because of the dumb healing fuels that fire and the heat returns again, this time from the annoyance bursting back into anger.

Why the fuck are you taking the full suit off anyway?

Your hands jump for his pants, quickly undoing the belt, button, and zip before he can do more than moan. While he’s busy biting at your neck, you frantically get your jeans undone and kick them on the ground.

He steps back, apparently surprised, and you roll your eyes. It’s so like him to be shocked by something inevitable. You grab him by the pants and yank him back, slip your hand into his boxers and grab onto his erection, hot flesh twitching against your fingers as you yank again.

“You’re not read-“

“Shut up,” you breathe and pull him in by the back of the neck. You keep him occupied with your mouth and move your hand off his cock so you can pull your panties to the side.

Panting in tune with your pounding heart, a mix of adrenaline riding the fast lane straight from the corner of Rage and Lust, you know you can’t wait very long. You’ve been slick and empty from the very moment he had his hand locked around your wrist. If you don’t get his cock in you soon, you are going to start throwing punches again.

You rip his boxers away and grab onto his erection, leading him to your body and wrapping a leg around his waist, lining yourself up as best as you can when he’s half a foot taller than you.

The moment his velvety head slips against your clit, a bumbling move where he jumps at the feel of your wet folds, you say, “Fuck it,” and jump into his arms.

Lucky for him, he manages to catch you and hold you up against the wall, barely a moment lost before your mouths rejoin.

Somewhere in the back of your head -the functioning bit- you have to admit you’re pretty impressed with Cas’ tenacious hunger as he holds on tighter, his mouth now slipping over your chest and mouthing at your shirt, unable to lick at the sensitive flesh underneath. The taunt makes you whine and you curve your body up, hold your panties to the side and slide down until his head is grazing at your entrance.

You have to roll your hips a few times, pushing down and pulling back before you growl and readjust your legs around his middle, making him take more of your weight so you can open wider and swallow up his dick, inch by inch until you’re finally full.

The stretch feels amazing and you rest your head against the wall to catch your breath, digging your hands into his shoulders for some payback as the slight burn quickly fizzles into only pleasure.

Then his hips start to move, at first little jerks to test but then you’re kicking your heels into him, urging him to go faster and deeper until he’s pounding into you. Until his jeans rub your thighs red and you’re reaching back to grab the wall for support as you gasp out your breaths.

Every thrust is accompanied by his grunt, your returning moan, and a thump against the wall. The harmony is pretty damn beautiful.

The friction is unbelievably good for all of two minutes.

It’s just not enough. He’s hitting all the wrong places and now your panties are starting to rub you the wrong way.

Freaking angels.

Just as you’re about to tell him to get a grip already, you’re spinning through the air for the fourth or fifth time –you’ve lost track- that day and find yourself dropped onto the bed, his cock still planted deep inside you. You gasp at the way that hit just the spot you were looking for, but that sensation is ruined the moment you realize where he placed you.

You are so not in the mood for any of his missionary style B.S. You drop your legs, scratching yourself on his belt as you go, and try to pull yourself off the bed but his hulking body is in the way.

He looks confused for a moment and pulls his dick out, starting at you as you jump to your feet, wobbling –because, yeah, wall fucking will do that to a girl- and you tear your panties off.

He’s a panting mess, sweating and breathing harder than you are, as he asks, “What are you doing?”

You look at him, grind your teeth, and warn, “I said, shut up.”

In a flash you flip yourself around and put your hands on the bed, presenting your ass to the asshole who is seriously pissing you off. Seriously, does he have to be so worried all the fucking time? You are obviously fine!

He still isn’t doing anything. You look over your shoulder and see he’s just staring at you. Idiot. “I know my ass is great-” you say with a smirk, “-but can you just fuck me already?”

You widen your stance to give him a sense of where this is going and finally you feel him move in close, his cock bouncing off your thigh before it is hastily corrected, following the trail of your arousal and impaling your body with an easy hard thrust.

You groan and the bed sheets fail to hold under your grip, peeling off the corners. Finally, he’s not holding back.

Fresh breath is knocked out of you with every drive of his hips. His strokes have become almost as violent as his fists and he needs to wrap his hands in a harsh grip around your waist in order to stop himself from slipping out of you.

You moan and lean into him, because how could you not? Those fingers are pressing into just the right muscles, outlining your hipbones and linking to your sex. Every thrust is hitting you just right. The exact amount of pleasure following by only the slightest pain to take the edge of your heat off.

The slapping of skin on skin joins in your chorus of cries as he picks up the pace and his jeans fall to the side, his breathing more frantic than ever.

You try to reach towards your center to give yourself a hand, just the right amount and exactly what you need, but as soon as Cas sees you reaching, his hand is inching around, trying to help you out.

“I wanna,” you pant, barely able to make the thought coherent before Cas has thrust it out of you. You rip the sheets nearly half off the bed with his powerful strikes. You try again, panting, “I wanna-“ You lose yourself to the feeling of his hands wrapping around your thighs. “Goddman that is distracting as fuck.”

“What?” Cas tries to ask, stopping his fucking.

You growl -because who ever told him he could stop?- and push up. The angle is awkward with a cock inside you so you grab onto Cas’ slipping coat and fist your hands in the fabric, pulling yourself up and stretching it out so you can curve back to his front.

He’s helpful and grabs you around the middle. Just this once, you’ll let it go.

“I said,” you say, “I wanna touch my own clit, thank you very much.”

Cas groans into your ear, mouthing his way around the places he can reach –making you tremble with his tongue and teeth as they graze your damp skin. He’s barely able to keep himself from driving in, just giving tiny pulses of his member inside you. “I don’t-“

“Keep fucking me,” you command and reach a hand down between your thighs.

You can feel him the moment he starts back up again, not only inside you but you move your hand to his cock and feel it with the tips of your fingers as it slides in and out. You can picture it so perfectly. The way you open for him, the way he disappears inside you.

God it just feels so good. The heat is coiling in your abdomen and you know you’re close. You’re rising higher, your limbs start to shake. Your knees start to buckle and you reach out with your free hand.

You’re nearly close enough to grab the wall for support, but short just a few inches. Cas must notice because next thing you know you’re being pushed against it.

Your breasts push flat and your flushed cheek feels cool against the wallpaper, the rest of you hot and sweaty. Your hands jump for something to grab onto, coming up with nothing but flat and your fingertips dig into brown and gold floral prints, scratching the walls beyond repair.

Then your hand slips into plaster dust and lands in the hole Cas’ fist made in his spurt of uncontrolled anger.

You groan and your fingers dive into the spot, bracing yourself as Cas pounds into your body. So close, you drop your free hand to your clit and start to circle, faster and faster as he fills you up inside, until you start to lose control of your voice.

“Ugnh-“ You gasp, moving your hand even faster as Cas picks up pace. “Oh god,” you cry as your hand slips from the hole in the wall and into the wallpaper, ripping it from its place. “Cas- oh god- Cas- I’m gonna- ah- ah- Cas!”

The electric pulse of your orgasm shoots through your limbs, legs buckling and hands scratching down sheetrock. Cas keeps you up from behind as he continues to thrust into you.

You’re about to open your eyes and fix your positioning when you hear him yell, “Don’t open your eyes!”

You squeeze them shut and a bright flash fills the room, Cas’ hips stuttering in pace. Only when the light dies down do you blink them open to find every bulb burnt out or fizzing with smoke. The TV is making weird noises too. Whatever.

Through your orgasmic haze you chuckle and say, “I think your sneak attack plan beats mine.”

There’s a pause a tad too long and you’re worried you may have done something wrong, but then you feel Cas’ forehead on your neck, chuckles rolling over your skin as he hugs you from behind.

For some reason, you don’t feel quite as angry anymore.


End file.
